The Shadows of Silvermoon
by an unseen bystander
Summary: Beneath the glimmering surface of the city lies an underworld of thieves and murderers. Of course, all the residents knows this, but that only makes it all the more dangerous.  Based just after the reconstruction of Silvermoon. Rated T to be cautious.
1. Chapter 1

Almost everything in this story belongs to Blizzard Entertainment, though most of the characters are made-up and the storyline was created by me.

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Magister Lathis Firehand pulled down his hood as he entered Murder Row. He grinned as he slipped past the shady dealers and the other unscrupulous denizens of the alley. He'd dismissed his personal escort earlier, sending them to the bar with a bag of gold coins. They wouldn't be looking for him for hours.

He turned his head, and spotted the lady he'd come here to meet. She was standing in an alley between two large buildings, and forced a smile as he approached. That didn't bother him. She didn't like him, but he didn't care – she needed the money he paid her for her services. In fact, he'd killed a few of her other customers to keep her reliant on him.

The magister slipped around the corner and into the alley. He grinned lecherously at the lady, and reached out to grab her arm.

Suddenly, the lady looked up, and her eyes widened. In less than a second, a weight crashed down on the magister's shoulders and a burning pain erupted in his back. He stumbled forward a step, fumbled feebly to pull the dagger out of his back, and collapsed, rolling over to catch a glimpse of a black-clad figure before he was engulfed in blackness.

The lady managed not to scream. She'd seen worse killings than this in her profession, and had been robbed at knifepoint several times. The black-clad figure rummaged in the dead magister's pockets, and pulled out three large bags of coins, weighing them in her hand for a second before turning to look at the other lady.

The lady quickly pulled out her coin purse and held it out, trembling slightly. The black-clad figure regarded the offering for a second before tossing one of her coin purses over.

The figure grinned beneath her mask. "Keep the change."


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh, not another one…" The guard grimaced, ran a hand through his pale hair, and turned to his partner. "This has to be the fifth dead magister this month."

His partner, a novice, was busy staring at the wall and trying to control his stomach. Such gory murders were commonplace in the aptly named Murder Row, but less common in the rest of the city. Or at least less visible. The novice darted a glance at the dead magister and lost the battle with his stomach. His partner shook his head.

The guard glanced down the street and frowned. He sat down on the sidewalk and watched the crowd move by, the passersby giving him a wide berth as they eyed his bright tabard warily. He grinned at their reactions; they all knew he could arrest them without reason or provocation, and in this alley, everyone had secrets they wanted to keep.

There was a rustling noise behind the guard; he whirled around and leapt to his feet in time to see an urchin grab the dead magister's gold ring and take off down the street, leaving bloody footprints.

"Hey! Stop!" The Knight started running after the kid. Even in full plate armor, he was much faster than the urchin, but the kid knew the layout of the street better. He dashed over the paved street, upsetting a few hawkstriders, and scaled the side of a building faster than seemed possible. Just as he reached the roof, a blue bolt flew up from the crowds and struck the urchin in the legs, forming a block of ice which froze the child to the roof. He stumbled and fell over as the guard whirled around to see who was responsible for the bolt.

A mage wearing the robes of the guard walked out of the crowd, watching the frozen urchin for a minute before turning to the Knight and smiling. "Hey, Ash, you seem to be losing your touch. That kid nearly got away!"

The guard, Ash, snarled back; "I would've gotten him if you gave me the chance!" He reached up and snatched the gold ring out of the urchin's hand. The kid stared back at him with round fearful eyes. Ash grinned viciously and reached for his sword. He'd teach the little piece of filth to never mess with a guard again…

"Hey, Ash, who's the ring for?" The mage had walked up, and proceeded to pluck the ring out of his friend's hand. "Finally decided to propose to your girlfriend?"

Ash whirled around. "Shut up, Thal, it's from the dead guy."

Thal nodded. "And where is this dead guy? I have a job to do, you know."

Ash narrowed his eyes, "Fine, I'll show you in a sec-" He turned around, intending to get his revenge on the urchin, but saw that the ice had melted and the kid had disappeared. He cursed loudly before turning back to his friend and pointing down the street. "The body's down there. Looks like a magister. He's missing his coin purse as well as most of his other belongings, but that's to be expected in this place." He muttered the last part as he spotted a pickpocket working her way through the crowds.

The mage nodded, and the two turned into the alleyway where the body was still laid out. The novice was leaning against a wall, staring at the sky and trying to breathe in a controlled manner. The body of the magister was still lying slumped against the opposite wall amid a pool of dried blood. The mage walked over and began to examine the body.

"A single stab wound to the back… Looks like a professional kill – Whoever inflicted this didn't have a shaky hand, like all the thistleheads in this place would've." He looked at the dead guy's face. "Hey! I recognize this guy! Magister Firehand; he donated a lot of money to the guard station that was stationed off the Bazaar." He grinned. " I heard he had an illegitimate son who worked there and was trying to bribe him to stay quiet."

The novice looked up from his spot, frowning in confusion. "Magister Firehand? I thought he headed the council on controlling those types of crime?"

The two older elves stared at him for several seconds before breaking into derisive laughter. "You actually believe the news that the nobles send out?" Thal turned to his friend, "How the fel has he survived to be this age?"

Ash shrugged. "I think his family had some connections. He'd be long dead otherwise."

The novice, who had returned to a sullen silence as the two others laughed at him, spoke up. "Hey, there seems to be some old footprints near the body. Was someone else here?"

Ash nodded, but directed his explanation to Thal instead. "The other guards already found her. Seems she was the Magister's mistress for the past few years. The guard found a half-empty bag of coins hidden in her housing – She probably took it from this guy's body. Seemed to have spent half of it to buy herself the house."

Thal nodded. "What'd the guards do with the money?"

Ash shrugged, grinning cruelly. "The usual. They split the money among themselves, burned the lady's house down, and took her for their own use. I'm sure she'll appreciate the attention in time."

Thal grinned uncertainly at his friend. "Not to be naïve, but when did that become traditional?"

Ash shook his head. "Didn't you hear? Last month a guard got killed in that district. Nobody volunteered the murderer's name, so we're showing them what it costs them to mess with us."

Thal eyed his friend uneasily, then turned to examine the body again. "We'd better get this out of here." He waved a hand at the body, encasing it in a sheet of ice. The two guards picked up the slab, and the group walked out of the alleyway, headed towards their base in the Walk of Elders.

The body was dropped off without much fuss, other than a clerk complaining about coagulated blood getting on the carpet. Afterwards, Thal, as the head of their small investigation, went to report to his direct superior, accompanied by his two witnesses, Ash and the novice. The aforementioned superior was already waiting for them when they filed into his office.

"Spare me the details of your report; I've heard it all already. I'm reassigning you." He looked down at a sheaf of notes in his hand. "All the victims from the past few weeks seem to be nobles or magistrates from a certain district north of Sunfury Spire." He set down the notes, and pointed at the novice Knight. "You. Denadrin Flameblade, you have an uncle who lives in the district. Go talk to him, threaten him, blackmail him, whatever. Just get him to let you and these two stay there for the next few weeks. The killer has to be someone with access to the neighborhood, and I want you three to scout around. For the purposes of this mission, Denadrin, you are promoted."

Denadrin froze. Thal slapped him on the shoulder as congratulation. Ash looked stunned, and then glared at his former trainee and new commander.

"Athallan Brightflame, Ashelan Dawnrunner, you are both assigned as his bodyguards. Since you're going to the neighborhood anyways, you may as well return the body to his family. Dismissed, all of you."

The three walked out of the office. Ash spent a good ten minutes arguing with the clerk before they could regain possession of the corpse, and another fifteen minutes passed waiting for a carriage to arrive to transport the body. Maneuvering a frozen corpse for all to see was fine in Murder Row, in fact, it was expected. But having an uncovered corpse travel through the Court of the Sun, where nobles and Horde ambassadors stayed, would be tantamount to political suicide.

The carriage was fairly plain. However, blood elves have an entirely different dictionary when it comes to aesthetics: The carriage had a golden frame which tapered into curlicues at the rear and an elaborate hitching apparatus containing a resplendent black hawkstrider in the front, with brightly dyed crimson silk bearing the emblem of Silvermoon stretched over the frame. Thal pulled the entrance's curtain aside while the hastily constructed coffin containing the dead magister was put aboard. Denadrin, Ash, and Thal then climbed in and sat at the bench in the front of the carriage, having to sit cross-legged since the coffin took up all the legroom. As soon as they got in, the driver flicked his hand, and an ethereal whip cracked over the hawkstrider's head, and the vehicle started its journey towards the deceased's house.

The Court of the Sun: Dominated by a magnificent fountain whose pristine glittering waters create an aura of surrealism, the outdoor square is the main area for Silvermoon's nobles to spend their day. In recent years, it has also become the perfect place to entertain the new Horde ambassadors: It is clean, it is near the orb of translocation, it boasts a population of polite professionals, and it has virtually no crime or evidence of unhappiness. It keeps up the image of Silvermoon as a utopic city of brilliant wonders and magical prowess.

Lady Ciandra Goldenlight, Lady Faelyn Sunsworn, and Lady Selania Firehand were finishing a lengthy discussion when a crimson carriage rolled past.

"I've said it before…" Faelyn shook her head. "The new proposition for tax cuts on low-income workers will never get through. It's simply too unpopular."

Selania frowned and lowered her voice. "This city may look fine on the outside, but there are people starving in the back streets. There are people murdering each other just to get a single fel crystal. Face it; we lost most of our wealth when Arthas destroyed this city. We can't just pick up our old extravagant lifestyle and act like nothing's changed!"

Faelyn narrowed her eyes. "We rebuilt this city and much of Eversong Woods. If the rabble could not-" She paused, and quickly adopted a slightly strained smile. Ciandra and Selania turned their heads slightly and spotted an orcish ambassador walking down the path nearby. They smiled quickly and engaged in small talk until the orc walked out of hearing range.

Faelyn frowned again. "As I said: We rebuilt our society. If the rabble could not resume their old jobs, it's their own fault."

Ciandra shook her head. "Half of the city still lies in ruins. Those ruins are now swarming with Wretched. The same fate has befallen Sunsail anchorage. The East Sanctum was destroyed. The Ghostlands is entirely dead, and half our food was grown there. We have lost most of our workable land and most of those skilled enough to work it. Our rebuilt city is almost entirely run by magic; there simply aren't any jobs that these people can do!"

Faelyn sighed in exasperation. "There's plenty of work for them to do. If you want to try to get the proposition through, try bringing up the subject at the ball tomorrow. You won't get much luck, though. It's a very unpopular bill."

The three nodded to each other, stood up, and left. While Faelyn was picked up by her carriage, Ciandra and Selania headed over to the valet who was holding the reins of their hawkstriders. Selania handed a few silver coins to the valet, and the two mounted and started walking back to their neighborhood.

Ciandra brushed a black strand of hair out of her face and turned to Selania. "I don't believe I've seen you around the city for at least a month. Is there anything wrong at home?"

Selania shook her head. "Nothing wrong, but my husband seems to think that to 'keep up the family's good image', I shouldn't walk around talking about politics. He more or less forbade me from walking around the city."

"How come you're here, then?"

"Lathis hasn't been home since yesterday afternoon. I took the chance to spend time around the Court." She lowered her voice. "He's probably been out drinking with his friends. He can't fault me for talking to mine."

Ciandra nodded. "So, are you going to the Sunsworns' ball tomorrow? We should try to push the issue of the tax break and try to win some people over to our side."

Selania smiled. "I'll be there. I have a lot to prepare for it, though – I should get going." She nodded a farewell and spurred her hawkstrider into a run.

Ash grumbled again as the carriage hit another rut in the road. Denadrin cursed as his helmet clanged against the wall. "How much longer will this accursed ride take?"

Thal shrugged. "It's a pretty heavy carriage pulled by a single hawkstrider uphill. It's not going to go very fast."

The other two groaned. They were tossed around inside the carriage again as it swerved to the side of the road to clear the way for a noble riding behind them. Ash peeked out the side of the carriage and watched the noble pass on her red hawkstrider. "If we keep swerving like this I'm going to be sick…" He groaned.

After several minutes which felt like several hours, the carriage pulled up in front of the Firehand estate. Ash, Thal, and Denadrin gratefully clambered out and tugged the magister's coffin out with them. Ash and Denadrin each carried one end of the coffin as Thal walked up and knocked on the door.

Instead of hearing a response from inside the mansion, a voice from the stables called. "Just a minute!" A bit more than a minute later, the same noble that had passed them on the road walked up, smiling slightly. Her smile melted as she spotted the coffin. "What happened?"

Thal bowed. "Milady Firehand?" he began, and after her affirmative nod, continued, "I must convey the news that your husband, the esteemed Magister Firehand, was murdered yesterday afternoon."

The lady turned white. Elves in general are pale to start out with, and so this coloration was only slightly different from her normal appearance, but it was noticeable all the same. "What? How?"

Thal shrugged. "It is still being investigated."

The lady took a deep breath, and seemed to become a bit more composed. "Here, bring that inside." She cast a glance at the coffin, then turned and walked towards the front door, which she opened with a wave of her hand.

Thal followed, staying a few steps behind the noble. "If I may ask, did your husband have any enemies?"

The lady watched as the coffin pass through the doorway. "Uh…" She closed the door behind it, and turned to Thal, scowling. "We're nobles. We're surrounded by enemies everywhere we look. Maybe he supported the wrong bill. Maybe he mistreated one too many of the servants." She seemed to have regained most of her former self.

Denadrin spoke up. "If I may be allowed to comment, Lady Firehand, you seem to have recovered well from the news of your husband's death."

The lady shook her head. "He wasn't a very good husband. Where was he killed?"

Ash replied with a grin. "Murder Row, in a back alley." He watched gleefully to see her reaction.

She sighed and closed her eyes for a few moments. "I fear I do not have to ask you what he was doing there?"

Thal shook his head. The lady pursed her lips slightly. "Thank you for bringing this here." She gestured to the coffin, and then turned away, making it obvious that they were dismissed. Thal and Denadrin stood to walk out. Ash opened his mouth to respond angrily, but was silenced as Thal grabbed his arm and tugged him out the door.

"Not much love was lost between those two." Denadrin commented darkly as they walked back to the carriage.

Ash nodded. "And she made it pretty clear that just about anyone on this block would and could kill him. Did you notice many servants in their house?"

Thal shook his head. "With this rebuilt city, many of these houses are run just by magic. Most have less than ten servants and groundskeepers."

The three climbed back in the carriage, happy with the new legroom. The driver flicked the ethereal whip once more, and the carriage started down the road towards Denadrin's uncle's estate. Luckily, that trip only took around five minutes, as the carriage was lighter and they were no longer going uphill. The estate in question was one of the smaller mansions, which was huge nonetheless. An adolescent blood elf was trimming the bushes surrounding the house as Denadrin walked up to the door. The younger elf peered at them for a few seconds before recognizing Denadrin and hastily bowing.

"The master is inside in his study." The gardener mumbled, gesturing towards the front door. He scurried off as soon as Denadrin nodded and turned away.

Denadrin walked up to the front door and knocked. The large gilded door swung open seemingly by its own accord and Denadrin walked into the antechamber of the house, followed by Ash and Thal. They waited in silence for a few minutes until a silver-haired elf entered the room.

Denadrin bowed to the new figure, and Ash and Thal followed suit. The figure glanced over Ash and Thal and focused on Denadrin. "To what do I owe this disturbance?"

Denadrin smiled thinly and removed his helmet. "We are here working an investigation for the Guard."

The older elf, who was presumed to be Denadrin's uncle, nodded. "Ah, it's you. And what makes you think I'll help you in this?" He scowled at Denadrin, completely ignoring the other two in the room.

Denadrin smiled slightly. "I can always ask my mother to let slip a few of your secrets to some guards… I'm sure they'd appreciate a chance to take down someone as disliked as you."

His uncle frowned, opened his mouth to respond, looked at Ash and Thal, and closed it again. "Very well. I'm sure there are some empty rooms in the servant's quarters which you can use." He turned to walk away, then paused and turned back. "There is a ball tomorrow, at the Lord and Lady Sunsworn's. I'll expect you to be ready to go by tomorrow, as I do not trust you to be alone in the house."

Denadrin nodded, and he, Ash, and Thal walked down an elaborately decorated hallway to a plain wooden door. Behind the door was a plainly constructed hallway with several adjacent empty rooms. Denadrin gestured toward the rooms. "I can remember when this whole wing was full. Most of these servants were killed during the destruction of the city and the rest have been laid off." He paused for a second. "Well, pick a room and get it set up. Most of our best suspects will be at the ball tomorrow, and we'd better be prepared to confront them."


	3. Chapter 3

The Sunsworns were one of the more influential families in the area. Thus, their estate was one of the largest and most elaborate. It was said that one could see the glittering upper spires of their home from the city gates. In the newly typical blood elven style, the majority of the house was suspended only by magic funneled from the fel crystals attached to each platform. Unfortunately, the lady Sunsworn had a fear of heights, and so the upper rooms were rarely used.

The main seat of the building, which was firmly anchored to the ground, was easily the size of thirty normal houses. The beautiful gardens surrounding the house were at least twice as big. At the time when Denadrin, Ash, and Thal arrived, both areas were covered in elaborately dressed nobles and servants.

"I suddenly feel quite underdressed…" muttered Thal as the group walked toward the gates, trailing after Denadrin's uncle. He turned to watch a red-haired lady walk past dressed in a metallic gown of silver and gold. He stopped watching after a few seconds, as the reflections from the garment began to give him a headache.

Ash nodded in agreement. While Denadrin's uncle, who had "introduced" himself as Lord Pyrenus Flameblade, had a suitable outfit, and Denadrin himself had a fairly elegant suit, both Thal and Ash had to use their old uniforms. They were fairly fancy, but nothing in comparison to what they now saw around them.

The group arrived at the front door. The steward looked them over, glanced at Ash and Thal with an air of distaste, bowed to Lord Flameblade, and led the group inside. He presented the group as "The esteemed family Flameblade and their servants" and then resumed his post at the door.

The building was clearly built for the purpose of entertaining a lot of guests. The architecture enabled the general crowd to converse as they pleased without any echoing, and a speaker at the top of the stairway on the far wall to speak and have his or her voice resound throughout the place. As the three guards entered the crowd, Lady Sunsworn descended from the upper story and stood on top of the stairway.

"My dear guests," she began, smiling widely and gesturing to the crowd, "Today is a day to eat, drink, and be merry in honor of our beloved Silvermoon." She clasped her hands in front of her heart. "Through all our efforts, our glorious city has risen from the ashes and resumed, nay, surpassed its former glory!" She made a sweeping gesture to the view of the city through the window behind her. The crowd applauded loudly.

The lady turned back to the crowd and clasped her hands in front of her, looking down. The crowd quieted, and she spoke again. "However, this great city has not come without sacrifices. I ask you to observe a moment of silence for our dear Lord Fireheart, who was struck down yesterday." The crowd was silent for a few seconds, before Lady Sunsworn brightened again. "I thank you for your show of respect. I'm sure the good magister would have hated for us to burden ourselves unnecessarily for his passing. So now, enjoy yourselves!" She gave a last, brilliant smile and descended into the crowd.

"I swear I saw her teeth glint in that last smile," muttered Thal. "No real respect for the dead."

Ash nodded. "Let's go see if we can hear anything from her that might point out a suspect."

Denadrin nodded. "I can go check out the servants, as they'd be likely to hold something against the nobles."

Thal nodded, and the three began slowly working their way through the crowd.

Lady Fireheart was the only lady in the entire room dressed in black. She had never harbored any real love for her husband, but she still felt that she should show respect to his spirit and follow the proper traditions of mourning.

Lady Goldenlight stood beside her in a dark green dress and wearing a somber expression. The two were in the middle of a conversation when Lady Fireheart walked over. "Selania, I was horrified to hear the news. I'm glad you could still make it to my party."

Selania nodded. "Thank you, Lady Sunsworn."

Lady Goldenlight gave a nod to Lady Sunsworn as the latter slipped away to perform her duties as hostess. Lady Fireheart looked into the crowd and frowned. Lady Goldenlight followed her gaze. "What is it?"

"I'm absolutely positive that those three in the crowd are the guards who brought me the news of my husband's death." Selania pointed out three men awkwardly navigating the crowds.

"Hmm… I'm fairly sure that they're wearing the old uniform of the guard…" Lady Goldenlight observed. "Though I believe the shortest one is the nephew of Lord Flameblade."

They watched the three for a few seconds before Lady Fireheart frowned. "I just remembered, I need to ask Lady Sunsworn when the next nobles' meeting is, seeing as I'll have to sit in for my husband."

Lady Goldenlight nodded. "Can you tell me later? I need to start talking to these people about the proposition."

Lady Fireheart nodded. "Thanks, Ciandra. I completely forgot about that." She smiled and disappeared into the crowd.

Lady Goldenlight meandered through the crowd for a minute before approaching a solitary noble. "Lord Dawnstriker, I was wondering if you have given any thought to the recent proposition that Lord Redmorn brought up a few days ago?"

The lord gave her a practiced look of utter indifference. "I considered it. But the tax break is completely unneeded. The city has enough workers. The remainder are obsolete. They simply need to realize that and move on."

Lady Goldenlight nodded slightly, and replied in a conversational tone. "Many of these people have no idea how to move on, and those who do don't have the funds to do so. The general population is still reeling from the loss of the Sunwell. An average of three people per day succumb to their need for magic. And the price of fel and arcane crystals is far too high for them to afford."

The lord shook his head, his voice tinged with annoyance. "If they can't refrain from getting drunk on magic for more than three hours, it's not my fault." He frowned.

Lady Goldenlight gave him a fierce look. "Perhaps the adults can be held accountable for that, but what of the younger ones who grow up in these new slums? Nearly a hundred people a month die or succumb, and many of these people leave children behind. The adults may be able to earn enough to leave, but these children have no way out. There are no less than seven orphanages in this city, none of them with any sort of funding. These children, at least those who survive…" Her eyes flashed angrily. "…will one day be the workforce of this city. Do you truly want the future city guards to feel like crime is commonplace? And who will they feel is accountable? The nobility, of course. What shall happen to us in, say, a hundred years time? When half the city would clamor to see us killed?"

Lord Dawnstriker paused for a second. He continued, with a small hint of doubt in his voice. "We are too important in the city's government to be overthrown." He paused. "Besides, there are institutions in place to send funds to orphanages. Perhaps the ones you speak of are not licensed."

Lady Goldenlight completed one syllable of her annoyed retort before she was interrupted as Lady Sunsworn and three of her friends glided into the conversation.

"Ciandra, my friend, are you still going on about tedious politics?" Lady Sunsworn sighed with a slightly reproachful tone and an insincere smile. "Really now, this is a party!"

Lady Sunsworn's friends whispered among themselves, giggling.

Lady Goldenlight shook her head. "This event is just an excuse to flaunt the magical remodeling of your home, Selania." she muttered, quietly so that only Lady Sunsworn could hear, as she glanced up at the magnificent crystal chandelier floating in the center of the hall, supported only by a gigantic fel crystal. Speaking at a normal tone, she continued, "I'm sure you're all firmly set in your own opinions. Still, I warn you that if you do not think of the city outside the glittering mansions, they will hold you all responsible for it. We all have the means to hide in our luxurious fantasies, but the real world is still out there and will come in sooner or later." She turned and left.

"I think we lost them…" Thal complained as he tried to peer over the ears of the crowd. "I can't see through this crowd."

"I think I saw Lady Sunsworn walk by a minute ago…" Ash muttered. "She's right over… there… no, wait, over there." He pointed to a figure near the edge of the hall. The two made their way carefully through the throng of nobles, and arrived in time to hear Lady Sunsworn make a few remarks to a black-haired noble in a dark green dress.

"I had hoped that you would have not brought up politics until the end of the party." Lady Sunsworn angrily brushed a strand of red hair out of her face as she spoke. "I will ask you not to complain about the 'mistreatment of the poor' for another few hours. Until then, I hope you will try not to disrupt my party." She frowned at her target's lack of abashment, then turned and stalked back into the crowd, her hostess's smile back in place.

Thal muttered to Ash, "Seems like that lady doesn't fit in so well." He turned, and noticed that Ash wasn't there. He turned back and saw Ash approach the black-haired noble.

"Greetings, m'lady." Ash bowed to the noble. "Would you honor me by telling me who I am addressing?"

The noble hesitated for an instant, surprise flitting across her face, before she took a breath and replied. "Lady Ciandra Goldenlight. And you are..?" She held out a hand for Ash to shake.

Ash took the proffered hand and kissed the back of it, bowing again. "Sir Ashelan Dawnrunner, of the city guard."

The lady blinked once at his actions, and gave a slightly uneasy smile. A second later, a lady in black walked up and tapped Ciandra on the shoulder. "I hate to interrupt you, but I need you to come talk to Lady Amberdawn upstairs. "

Lady Goldenlight nodded, a subtle hint of relief evident in her expression, and she left, headed in the direction of the staircase. Ash turned to follow, but was blocked as a large group of nobles walked horizontally across his path. That walked forward and stopped next to his friend.

"What was that all about?" he hissed. "We're trying to keep a low profile!"

Ash grinned, working his way through the crowd towards the staircase at the end of the hall. "Didn't you hear the conversation? She likes common people!"

Thal glared. "I sincerely doubt it was meant in that manner. And since when were you a 'sir'?"

Ash shrugged and slipped around a knot of people. He climbed halfway up the stairs, and was standing on the landing next to the window with a panoramic view of the city, when he was interrupted by the arrival of Denadrin.

Denadrin smiled slightly. "I just narrowed the list of suspects. There's only seven jobs in this estate that are not done by magic, three of the workers cannot fit the description of the assassin, and the other four servants work in this house from dawn to dusk. None of them could have done it, and their situation is the same for every house in the neighborhood. This assassin is one of the nobles themselves."

Ash scoffed. "You're saying one of these stiff-necked nobles has the skills to sneak through the city's underbelly undetected? I doubt that."

Thal shrugged. "Did you hear anything interesting about the nobles from the servants?"

Denadrin shrugged. "They're very distant with their servants. None has any good opinion of them. However," He paused. "there are six nobles in the neighborhood who are nicer to their servants than others. Apparently, they're part of a minority party that's trying to change the treatment of the common people in the city."

Ash grinned. "Like that Lady Ciandra I was talking to."

Denadrin looked blankly at him. "It's very inappropriate to call a higher-ranking noble by their first name. We can't ingratiate ourselves into this group if 'we'," he glanced sharply at Ash, "keep making mistakes like that."

Ash shrugged, and Denadrin resumed speaking. "From what I've managed to hear, the assassinated nobles were all the types who were very cruel to those around them. That may actually make these six nobles more suspicious. Most of the nobles in this room would still have a motive, but we should probably focus on these six first." He gestured out the window, pointing to a large house two blocks away. "That is Lord Everflame's house. He seems to be the leader of the group. We've already seen Lady Fireheart's home, plus she seemed genuinely shocked to hear about her husband's death. Lady Emberlight lives four blocks north of here. Lord Duskstriker is only two houses east of here. Lady Goldenlight lives right next door, and Lady Brightflame is two doors further."

Thal and Ash nodded. Ash grinned. "Should be easy enough. I'd like to see any of these nobles try to do a backflip, like the reports say the assassin did."

Ash began to say something else, but was cut off by a strange creaking noise. The voices in the hall quieted, their owners searching for the source of the loud noise.

Before anything could happen, the creaking ended in a great cacophony of shattering glass. The crowd gasped in unison as the remnants of the great fel crystal that had supported the chandelier rained down on them. There were a few cries as some falling razor-edged shards inflicted shallow cuts. The cries spiked upwards in volume as the floating chandelier wavered a moment, and then plummeted towards the floor. The size of the chandelier would easily cover a group of thirty or so people, and these same thirtyish people ran or dived out of the impact zone with surprising swiftness and agility. In the second it took toe chandelier to reach the floor, twenty-eight of the thirty had gotten clear. One cried out as a heavy marble arm of the chandelier landed on his leg with an audible snapping noise. There was no trace of the second person.

The hall was entirely silent but for the labored breathing of the man with the broken leg. After a minute of stunned silence, Lady Sunsworn spoke up, her voice shriller than normal. "I… I'm afraid we're ending the ball early tonight…" She stared, shocked, at the broken chandelier, and the shards of the broken fel crystal underneath it. "Please do not let… this disruption… ruin the…" Her voice dwindled with each syllable and petered out.

The guests began to shake off their reverie, and filed out the door while casting fearful glances back at the remains of the chandelier. A servant helped the injured noble out the door. Lord Sunsworn shook himself out of his stunned stupor and waved a hand, creating a barrier of frosted ice to form around the rubble, obscuring it from view as the last of the guests walked through the door. However, if one looked closely, they could see a faint red stain begin to spread inside the ice.


End file.
